


(Don't) Tell Me What to Do

by 13chapters



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Dubious Consent, M/M, Porn, Power Play, Swimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-21
Updated: 2012-08-21
Packaged: 2017-11-12 14:55:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/492408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/13chapters/pseuds/13chapters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The boys are teammates on the high school swim team.  Jared's bossy and Jensen's confused.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(Don't) Tell Me What to Do

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually based on a call to Dan Savage's Savage Love Podcast sometime in June of 2009 or so. It was an...inspiring call.
> 
> Un-beta'ed because I'd actually be kind of embarrassed to have someone read this critically.
> 
> Edit: This was intended to read as consensual (although with a power play element) but I've received a comment saying it could be read as dub-con. Please consider that when deciding whether or not to read the story.

Jensen isn’t ashamed of his body. He really isn’t. He eats right, works out, swims every day, of course. He knows he looks good. Girls totally flirt with him all the time. That’s not why he’s alone in the locker room, getting ready for swim team practice.

He does this every afternoon, has for a few weeks now. He rushes out of sixth period as quickly as possible, rushing to the locker room. He changes quickly, before anyone else can get there. That way, he can get in the pool before Jared gets there.

“Hey, Jensen,” Jared would say. “Hand me my bag, would you?” Even if Jared was the one closer to the bag, Jensen would do it, couldn’t bring himself to say _get it yourself, asshole_. When Coach once asked Jared to run into his office to grab some paperwork, he’d lazily turned to Jensen and said “Oh, Jensen will do that. Right, Jen?” He’d leaned back, propping himself up on with his outstretched palms on the hot cement, his long, long legs dangling over the edge of the pool, circling in the water. Jensen had hoisted himself out of the water and headed, dripping, into the locker room without a word. Once: “Fill up my water bottle, okay?” Jensen had taken the bottle from his hand and was halfway to the drinking fountain before he’d realized what he was doing. Jared had been lying out by the pool when Jensen had returned, his fingers toying with the little curly hairs below his belly button that emerged from under the low-slung swim trunks. Jensen had actually _dropped_ the water bottle before turning heel and fleeing.

There’s just something about Jared that Jensen finds hard to say _no_ to. And Jared knows it.

Jensen isn’t sure how to deal with it. He doesn’t know how to handle the way his body reacts – his tan isn’t dark enough to hide the flush he feels burning his skin whenever Jared so much looks his way. And the other stuff – well, no one knows about that.

So he’s adopted a new tactic: avoidance.

Jensen is sitting on a bench in front of a row of lockers, pulling off his socks, when he becomes aware that he is not alone. He’s half an hour early, planned on getting in some warm-up laps before Coach shows up, and there is the echo of what sounds like bare feet padding on cement floor.

“Hey, Jensen.” Jensen hears Jared’s voice before he sees him, and he’s immediately struck by a simultaneous feeling of anxiety and excitement.

“Jared,” Jensen nods, trying to maintain his cool.

Jared doesn’t respond, just leans against the locker, watching Jensen undress. He’s wearing jeans and a black v-neck t-shirt that’s riding up on the left side where his hip cocks up, revealing a slice of firm tanned skin. Jensen doesn’t need to see any more, he knows perfectly well that Jared’s clothing is covering a long, lean, strongly muscled swimmer’s body, darkened from hours in the sun. He’s only watched it in action a thousand times before.

Jensen tugs off his t-shirt and spends an inordinate amount of time folding it carefully before he puts it in his locker, giving Jared time to leave him before he takes off his pants.

“What’re you waiting for?” Jared asks, a playful note in his voice. “You ashamed of something?”

“No,” Jensen stutters out. He can feel the flush rising on his neck and on his ears. He fidgets with the button on his pants but doesn’t undo it.

“You ain’t got anything I’ve never seen before,” Jared tells him.

“Why are you watching me, anyway?” Jensen blurts out. “This isn’t a strip club, you know.” He reddens, embarrassed by the entire exchange. Why won’t Jared just _leave him alone_?

Jared just grins. He gets ‘best smile’ in the yearbook every year, but Jensen suspects the yearbook staff has never seen this particular grin.

“Wanna see you,” Jared says, his voice low, like he might be overheard, even though they’re alone. “You couldn’t tell? You started coming to practice earlier, and Jensen-“ he pauses and briefly adopts an exaggerated expression of sadness and longing. “-I missed seeing you. So here I am, all bright and early.”

Jensen doesn’t even know how to respond to that. “Asshole,” he finally mutters.

“You think I’m an asshole?” Jared asks, sounding amused. He takes a step forward, and Jensen has to consciously stop himself from taking a step backwards. “Okay, then. But don’t tell me you don’t like it, Jensen. Don’t tell me you don’t _get off_ on it. You think those trunks can hide how you feel when I tell you what to do? When I boss you around?” The question comes out in a low hiss. He’s learning in close enough that Jensen has to choke back a groan when he feels Jared’s breath against his temple.

Jensen usually considers himself to be a pretty big guy. He’s tall enough to see over the heads of most of his classmates as they crowd the school hallways. Jared, though – Jared makes him feel small. Jared makes him wonder what it would be like to be pushed and shoved and made to kneel. It’s kind of terrifying and kind of other things Jensen doesn’t want to think about.

“Don’t lie to me, Jensen.”

Jensen has never been able to challenge Jared.

“What do you want?” he finally asks, lifting his eyes. Jared smiles, sunny and bright, and Jensen feels warmed by his approval.

“I want to touch you,” Jared says, sounding somewhat hesitant for the first time. Jensen realizes for the first time that Jared might not actually be as confident as he always seems. He looks up at Jared and after a moment, Jared drops his eyes.

“You want to touch me?” he asks. It comes out coyly, more flirtatious than he’d intended, but fuck it.

Jared lifts his eyes, and his grin is back. “Fuck yeah.”

“Do it,” Jensen breathes.

Jared doesn’t need to hear it twice. Jensen barely has the words out of his mouth before Jared’s unfastening Jensen’s jeans. He slips his hands under the two layers of clothing and cups Jensen’s ass, stroking the skin. Jensen breathes heavily, unsure of what to do, but he can’t help but enjoy the feeling of Jared’s massive hands on him, searching and fondling. Jared squeezes gently and Jensen never would have thought having his ass handled was so hot, but he’s seriously beginning to get hard. He lets out a squeak as one of Jared’s fingers wanders off to lightly brush at his asshole.

“Don’t worry, Jen,” Jared says. He’s flushed and breathless himself, Jensen realizes. “Not gonna do anything there. Not today, anyway,” he adds with a wink. Jensen feels a rush of heat to his groin at the images Jared’s words inspire. _Jesus._ Jared’s fingers drift around to the front of Jensen’s underwear, and Jensen lets out a little moan when he feels someone else’s hands on his dick for the first time. He’s rock hard instantly and the room seems to spin.

“Want to see you, Jensen,” Jared says. Jensen jerks a nod and Jared’s tugging down Jensen’s jeans and underwear, letting them pool ridiculously at his knees. Jensen has one moment to consider that their teammates will be there soon when Jared begins to jack him off.

Jensen leans forward and rests his head in the crook of Jared’s neck, breathing heavily against Jared’s skin as he works Jensen quickly and steadily. It’s not like Jensen would jerk himself off. He usually starts with light touches until he’s all the way hard, and then he does it slowly and methodically. Jared is much rougher than that, and the angle is all different. There’s no foreplay or patience, no soft touches or gentle strokes. Jared runs his head over the head of Jensen’s cock, gathering up the pre-come to lubricate the way, and his rhythm only increases. Jensen gasps and shivers and presses his lips against the damp skin of Jared’s neck. It’s not quite a kiss, but it’s not _not_ a kiss, either.

After a moment, though, Jared pauses, and strokes the index finger of his free hand up Jensen’s chest, up the center of his neck, and to his chin. He uses the finger to gently push Jensen’s face away, so he can meet Jensen’s eyes.

“Can’t see you, Jen,” he says. Jared’s eyes are bright as he smiles. “Stand straight up again. Look at me, Jen.”

With a groan, Jensen obeys, immediately missing the warmth and sensation of being _close_. Jared, though, catches his eye and Jensen doesn’t even try to look away. Jared resumes his stroking and Jensen has to steel himself to maintain eye contact. It’s harder – excuse him, more difficult – but it’s also almost painfully _intimate_. Jensen thinks that Jared looking at him this way, with heat and demand, that could be enough to make him come. No touching required.

Jared’s voice breaks the silence. His voice is rough and a little higher-pitched than usual.

“Come, Jen. Come. Come for me, you little fucker.”

“Don’t fucking talk to me like that, you asshole,” Jensen grunts, and then he comes, gasping. His eyes roll back into his skull and he pitches forward onto Jared’s chest. Jared holds him up with his left arm and Jensen feels Jared wiping off his come-covered hand on Jensen’s underwear.

“I’ll talk to you how I like,” Jared says,

“Fuck you,” Jensen mutters. He stands up, still gasping for breath.

“Fuck _you_ , Jen,” Jared says. “It’s my turn now. Do it.”

Jensen briefly considers resisting, just to see what Jared would do, what the limits are. But Jared’s dick is visibly straining at his jeans and Jensen really, really wants to see it. And touch it. And…maybe other things.

It only takes a few seconds for Jensen to get Jared’s jeans and boxers down, revealing his dick. He’s fully hard, and kind of red. Jensen’s never seen another guy’s erect dick in person before, only in porn, and it’s kind of ridiculous, but mostly really hot. Jared’s dick is bigger than his, but not by _that_ much.

“You can take a picture later, Ackles,” Jared grunts out. “Now.”

It occurs to Jensen that they have about ten minutes before people start showing up – assuming no one is early. He imagines being discovered, another teammate coming in and seeing them like this. Jesus, it’s only been about 30 seconds but he feels his dick twitch and begin to harden again at the thought.

Jared’s dick doesn’t feel too different from his own, which is surprising for some reason. It’s smooth and warm and hard and like Jensen, Jared is circumcised. He strokes up and down a few times, his hand cupped loosely. Jared bucks into him at the touch.

“More, Jensen. Fuck, go _faster_.”

It doesn’t take any more encouragement for Jensen. He licks his palm for lubrication, like he used to when he jerked off when he was younger, before he realized that lotion or lube was way better. He thinks that maybe his palm will taste different, like Jared, but it doesn’t really taste like anything. Just skin.

The saliva helps Jensen work Jared faster, but it’s still pretty rough as he speeds his hand up. Jared doesn’t seem to mind, letting out little breathy grunts and sighing noises as Jensen jerks him off. He runs his hands up to the head, which is leaking come, and rubs at the slit with his thumb. Jared gasps.

“Yeah. Fuck. You’re doing great, Jen,” Jared mutters. Jensen wants be sarcastic, but he can’t come up with words, not with that feeling of having done well warming his belly.

There’s a sound of a heavy door opening, and Jensen freezes for a moment.

“Keep going,” Jared says. Jensen speeds up even more while he waits for the inevitable sound of footsteps; when they don’t come, he realizes that the sound was from the adjoining girls’ locker room.

Jared comes without warning, hot come spilling out over Jensen’s hand and onto Jared’s own t-shirt. He loses his balance, catching himself against the lockers. He leans there for a moment, breathing heavily, before he’s able to speak.

“Get ready for practice,” he finally says, his grin back. “But don’t swim too hard today. I have plans for after practice.”

Jensen swallows, but he knows he’ll be there. He can never say no to Jared.


End file.
